


Sink In

by fictitiousmisery



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angel Wings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bisexual Female Character, Brief Mention of Team Free Will, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Demonic Possession, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut maybe, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, How Do I Tag, Inspired by Supernatural (TV), Original Character(s), Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Wing Kink, everyone is probably fine in the end, in denial gay, no one is straight lets be real, this shalt be gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictitiousmisery/pseuds/fictitiousmisery
Summary: Ophelia Winters has one thing on her mind: revenge.Until a certain celestial being steals her heart and her car.





	1. When I was Younger

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! This is a story set in the Supernatural universe where Sam, Dean, and Cas all exist but aren't included in the story. Basically, it's canon but from a different original character's perspective.  
> All the characters are mine but I don't own the universe, monsters, or other supernatural beings mentioned in it. I don't claim to own any of the references to the official Supernatural TV show.  
> Get ready for gay  
> -amelia <3  
> (I'm adding all the tags at school so that's why they aren't as detailed or accurate as they will be)

   Ophelia’s angel blade came down hard on the demon’s chest, the electricity burning up the blade and stinging her hand as the demon’s life flickered and crackled away. She turned to the trembling man in the corner, pushing her short hair away from her eyes and past her shoulders.  
   “A-Agent Freestone---” the man began to stutter. “What in the--what in the holy Hell is going on?” Ophelia rolled her eyes, wiping her hand across her face, smearing the blood from her broken nose across her cheeks.  
   “Demon,” she said curtly. She never bothered with formalities, leaving the job of comforting shocked victims to her partner Beckett. He was always the caring one in the friendship, having a far greater deal of empathy than Ophelia possessed. “He won’t bother you again. I’d suggest moving, though.”  
   Ophelia turned to Beckett, picking up her FBI badge off the ground and shoving it into the back pocket of her jeans. “This wasn’t the one.” With this, she walked out the door. Beckett heard the car door slam a moment later. He apologetically smiled at the terrified businessman in the corner and awkwardly ducked out of the room.

   “Ophelia Winters, you need to take a break. This is the fifth demon we’ve tracked down and killed in a week and I don’t think you’ve slept since Saturday.” Beckett slid into the passenger’s side seat, nearly bumping his head on the way in. He tousled his already-messy hair. Ophelia put the car in reverse, staring straight ahead with her icy-blue eyes.  
   “Beckett Westbay,” she replied, mocking his tone. “I’m not going to stop until I find the fuckwad that did it.” Beckett looked at her sadly, but she didn’t return his gaze. She did her best to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but he knew her well enough to know what feelings were swirling around her head. It had been seven months since Ophelia’s girlfriend was possessed by a particularly cruel demon. The demon had smoked out right as Ophelia rammed the knife through Cassie’s heart. She was still plagued by nightmares and the feeling of Cassie’s blood flowing through her fingers. Beckett opened his mouth to say something but before he got out the first syllable he was interrupted by a rustling of wings. He screamed, causing Ophelia to jerk the wheel and skid the car off the road. The pair turned to the figure that had appeared in the backseat. It was a stunningly gorgeous girl of about 17, her face streaked with blood and a strange black substance.  
   “Sorry to just pop in like this,” she said. “But I’ll need to borrow your car, if I may.”


	2. It Feels So Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annaliese feels things differently than before.

“Who are you?” Beckett twisted around to face the backseat.   
“I’ll explain later,” the girl said. “Right now I need to get away from here and would highly appreciate if you could continue driving. My life rather depends on it.” She spoke with the faint remnants of a British accent, like every word was clipped and slightly foreign on her tongue. Ophelia sighed deeply and pulled the car off the road’s shoulder.   
“I’ll get you away from whoever’s coming for your ass but then you have a lot of explaining to do.”   
“Fair enough.” The girl crossed her arms over the back of Beckett’s seat. His cheeks flushed and he shifted away from her breath on the back of his neck. Ophelia side-eyed Beckett, knowing that the flush wasn’t from arousal, but rather discomfort.   
“So, who are you?” Beckett scratched his nose awkwardly. Ophelia saw the girl’s eyebrows furrow in the rear-view mirror. She seemed to be in deep consideration of something, plummeting Ophelia’s trust for the girl even lower. Ophelia snapped her fingers sharply to snap the girl out of her reverie.   
“I am called Annaliese.”  
“What are you?”  
“I’m an angel.” Beckett turned in his chair to face Annaliese, mouth open in awe.   
“No fucking way,” he reached out and poked the angel’s cheek in disbelief. “I’ve never seen a real angel before.” Annaliese shied away from his fingers, eyeing him distrustingly.   
“Beckett--” Ophelia snapped. “Stop it. She’s not an object.” Beckett flushed and mumbled an apology under his breath. Annaliese smiled in acceptance of the apology and suggested they find a motel room. 

A couple hours later, the trio pulled into the Ivy Lake hotel. Definitely more ritzy than Ophelia and Beckett were used to, but Annaliese wordlessly pulled out two hundred-dollar bills from her coat and slid it across the counter. Ophelia raised her eyebrows at the angel but she just shook her head. The angel grabbed the room key (just one, Ophelia noticed) and stalked up the stairs. The two hunters hurried to catch up with her. When they got up to the room, the door was ajar and Annaliese was perched on the edge of the bed. The single bed. Oh fuck, Ophelia thought. Beckett took notice of this and immediately called out “I’ll take the couch!” Ophelia aimed a kick at him as he walked past, but he nimbly swerved out of the way. Ophelia threw her weapons bag in the corner of the room and, slamming the door behind her, disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water filtered into the room. Annaliese and Beckett shared a moment of awkward silence, looking anywhere but each other’s eyes. Beckett busied himself with preparing the couch and Annaliese began combing uncomfortably through her hair, both still feeling Ophelia’s icy demeanor even after she had left the room.   
“So who were you running from?” Beckett finally broke the silence.   
“More angels,” Annaliese replied. “Who consider me to be a wanted criminal.” Beckett’s eyes widened. He pushed a hand through his perpetual sex-hair and opened his mouth to ask something, but Annaliese cut him off. “My only offense was not doing what they told me.”   
Beckett laughed. “Sounds like my childhood.” A smile crept across the angel’s face but quickly retreated as Ophelia came out of the bathroom, face clean and hair damp. She threw a blood-stained towel in the trash and claimed a side of the bed, crawling under the covers and turning her back to the angel. 

Hours had passed, and Annaliese had gotten bored of waiting for the two hunters to wake up. Angels didn’t need sleep to function, so she snuck quietly out of the room, taking care to not wake the two sleeping humans. Sticking her hands in the pocket of her tattered black hoodie, she crept passed the front desk and out the doors of the hotel. Her thin and ripped leggings did nothing against the bite of the night air. She walked up to a closed-up shop, examining her reflection in the glass. She took in the appearance of her vessel, a girl of 17 who had prayed tirelessly for God to fix her tragic life. God wasn’t answering but Annaliese took it upon herself to try and save this girl. She didn’t think she was doing a good job. She had taken the girl out of the unforgiving hands of her father and into the hands of ruthless angels. She scrutinized the long, silver hair, the deep mahogany eyes, the creamy skin. She ran her fingers over the scars on the girl’s ribs and the bruises on her throat. She didn’t even know the girl’s name, and it felt so wrong to have taken her body. Annaliese could feel the girl’s life wavering as her body tried to contain Annaliese’s form. She must have lost track of time because she suddenly felt the sun’s light on her back, the sunrise glowing through the sky. She trudged back to the motel room, not looking forward to being on the receiving end of Ophelia’s icy stares and dark, seething energy. She walked up the steps and slipped her key into the lock, pushing the door open with quiet hands. Beckett was sprawled across the couch, snoring slightly, while Ophelia hadn’t moved from the position Annaliese left her in, curled up and facing the walls. Careful not to disturb the girl, the angel slowly lifted the covers and slid underneath them. Her skin brushed up against Ophelia’s and the other girl twitched slightly in her sleep. The angel buried herself beneath the comforter, wishing she could feel the warmth of the other girl next to her instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though people don't want to read this since it's an OC story rather than Team Free Will but if you've read it this far you're a real one and I love you   
> (also I'm so sorry these chapters are so freaking short)


	3. Chapter 3

     Ophelia woke up feeling better rested and happier than she had in months. She was warm and drowsy, pressed up against a delicious warmth that made her skin feel like magic was flowing through it. She pushed up closer, trying to get every inch of her skin in contact. She felt so relaxed, like she was floating on a----oh no. Ophelia shot up and away from the warmth, realizing she had been practically wrapped around Annaliese. Scrambling out of bed, she tumbled on to the floor, the sheet tangling in her legs. She hit the ground with an audible thump, a cry of pain escaping from her lips as she landed on a recent bruise. The angel in the bed looked at her through sleepy eyes, confused. Beckett was fussing with the hotel coffee machine, unsuccessfully hiding his laughter for Ophelia’s sake.  
___________________________________________________________________________  
Ophelia didn’t speak to Annaliese for the entirety of the car ride to the market. The angel had volunteered to go with Ophelia out of sheer boredom, while Beckett stayed back to remove the devil's trap they had chalked in above the hotel door. The car was teeming with a thick silence, neither girl looking at each other. Annaliese had finally cleaned the blood and mess off her face, per Ophelia’s request. Ophelia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, foot slipping off the gas pedal, causing her black ‘67 Camaro to lurch and sputter. Clicking on the radio, she smiled slightly when Asia began to blare through the speakers. Annaliese had never heard the song before, something about the heat of the moment, but she tried to mimic Ophelia’s movements, bobbing her head slightly to the beat. Ophelia glanced over and burst into laughter when she saw the angel’s attempts at dancing. Turning up the radio to as loud as she could bear, she threw her head back and belted the lyrics, off-key but not caring.  
_\--It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant--_  
The two sang together, Annaliese trying her best to decipher the lyrics, although an occasional Enochian word slipped out. Ophelia thought it sounded like music.  
____________________________________________________________________  
Beckett was scrubbing the devil’s trap off the ceiling with a damp rag, humming absentmindedly and trying not to fall off the stool he was balancing on, when a chill ran through the room. The lights flickered one, twice, and a third time.  
     “God damn it.” He hopped off his stool, grabbing his gun and a canister of salt, shaking a lopsided circle around his feet. “Out of all the hotels, that dumbass angel had to choose the one that’s haunted.” He pushed a rock salt bullet into his shotgun almost absentmindedly, hearing the click of the safety snapping off. Beckett’s eyes flashed around the room, his skin shuddering at the sudden drop in temperature. It was no big deal, he and Ophelia had taken down hundreds of ghosts in the short time they had been hunting. All he needed to do was find out a little about who might have died here and set about finding the remains. A simple salt’n’burn case was nothing he couldn’t handle. Sending out a quick prayer to Annaliese letting her know of his situation, he reached for Ophelia’s weapon bag in the corner, stretching out his fingers, careful to not leave the salt circle until he knew more about the spirit he was dealing with. He almost had the leather strap of her bag, just a couple inches more, almost, almost, just a tad bit more, but then an icy chill ran through his bones and everything blinked once before going black.  
_________________________________________________________________________________  
Ophelia and Annaliese were loading bags of groceries into the trunk when the angel’s hands flung up to her head, the bag of produce tumbling out of her fingers.  
     “What? What is it?” Ophelia set her bag down and grabbed the angel’s shoulders, panicked.  
     “I heard something from Beckett on angel radio earlier, but I believe I got distracted by the music, and-”  
     “And what, pray tell?” Ophelia’s voice was saturated with sarcasm.  
     “I can’t hear him anymore.” Annaliese looked up at Ophelia, eyes wide.  
     “Son of a bitch, you feathered whore. Why didn’t you tell me?” Without waiting for an answer, she stalked back to the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind her, barely waiting for Annaliese to climb in as well before driving off.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________  
They reached the hotel not ten minutes later, Ophelia sprinting up the stairs, jamming her key into the lock repeatedly before it finally clicks open. Beckett was lying on the floor, grains of salt congealing the blood pooling around his head.  
     “Mother of Hell, not like this,” Ophelia whispered, rushing to the boy’s side. She ripped off her flannel, probing his wounds with her fingers and wrapping the soft cloth around his head. Annaliese, having watched this encounter silently, kneeled down next to Beckett. She gently pressed her fingers to his forehead, softer than a snowflake settling on his skin. The bruising on his face and neck began to fade, morphing from purple to shades of red and finally disappearing entirely. The hunter was watching this exchange take place, jaw dropped. She clearly wasn’t used to angels, Annaliese noted. She gestured to Ophelia to help her set Beckett on the mattress, his weight causing him to sink slightly.  
     “What the hell happened?” Ophelia whirled around to face the angel accusingly. Her eyes were burning like white-hot flames. The other girl stared back icily.  
     “I don’t know what you mean. If you’re implying I had something to do with his current condition--”  
     “That’s exactly what I’m implying! You heard him on angel radio and yet you did nothing? You didn’t even tell me?” The hunter’s voice jumped an octave in frustration.  
     “We were having such a good time, I suppose I was distracted.” That was the last straw. Whipping her knife out of her holster, Ophelia rushed at the angel, slamming her into the wall, her blade pressed against the other girl’s throat. Her anger bubbled up in her throat, choking her words back into her lungs.  
     “Listen, you harlot. My best friend just got beat on by God-knows-what and I’m putting this one entirely on you. I don’t care how good of a time you were having, this is a human life we’re talking about and your angelic ass couldn’t be bothered to try and save it. I promised you a ride until you were safe from whoever was chasing you, and they don’t seem to be here anymore, so get the hell out.” Annaliese stared defiantly back. Something in her eyes seemed to flash like an electric current had just run through her veins. In an instant, there was a flapping of wings and then Ophelia was the one pinned against the wall, her own blade being forced towards the underside of her throat. Annaliese’s tawny eyes were wild and animalistic, her silvery hair flowing around her face as if it had a life of its own.  
     “You humans think you’re so bold. You forget I’m a celestial being. I’ve been around longer than your human perception can even fathom, and seen things that would drive you out of your mind. How _dare_ you accuse me of not caring for these creations?” She emphasized her words with a jab of the knife at the hunter’s throat. Ophelia’s heart fluttered. They were so close she could feel every breath the angel took. She jerked the knife out of her hand and pushed past her, grabbing a handgun and shoving it in her waistband.  
     “We’re going to go find whatever did this and gank the son of a bitch.” She paused at the door, her back still to the angel inside. “Are you coming or not?”


End file.
